


To Fight for Love

by linasane



Series: Home 'Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Abuse, Flashbacks, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kid Fic, Kidnapping, Legal Guardian Dean, M/M, Protective Castiel, Road Trips, Seriously - the ending will be happy I promise, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:01:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5193221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linasane/pseuds/linasane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He's gone."</p><p>When the third member of their makeshift little family goes missing in the middle of the night, Dean and Castiel will do anything to bring him home.  With a little help from their friends - and a lot of help from each other - they set off across the country with one goal in mind: bring Sam home.</p><p>Sequel to To Find a Family</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I really want to say THANK YOU to everyone who read To Find a Family. You guys' comments and kudos were so amazing, and I wish I had the time to reply to every one of them (hopefully I can get around to it at some point)!! Also, thank you for being patient in waiting for the sequel. I'm hoping to post a chapter every week or two, depending on how quickly I can get them written and edited :).
> 
> Second of all, I just want to warn you guys that this fic is going to be a lot heavier and more graphic than To Find a Family. I've tried to tag everything as well as possible, but if there's anything I missed PLEASE let me know!
> 
> Lastly, this fic is un-beta'd, so please pardon any typos XP.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

“He’s gone.”

Dean’s running to Sam’s room before Cas has a chance to elaborate, before he can say anything further than those two awful words.

Sure enough, when makes it down the hallway, there’s no Sam.  There’s just Cas, frantic and right behind him.

“Maybe he’s just hiding somewhere,” Dean suggests, ignoring the feeling of his blood pounding in his ears and his stomach dropping to his feet and hoping to god that’s really the case.  “Sammy?” he calls out, beginning to search the room.

Cas immediately joins in the search, his shouts of “Sam?” joining Dean’s in a panicked chorus that echoes throughout the house.

They search the whole place top to bottom, only to end up back in the guest room when there’s still no sign of Sam.

Dean’s got two hands in his hair, ready to tear it out as he surveys the room like he might find some new evidence in his brother’s unmade bed.

It’s Cas that spots it first.  “Dean,” he says, urgent tone pulling Dean out of his spiral of dread.  Dean looks up to find Cas making his way over to the window.  The window that was shut when Dean tucked Sam into bed, but now hovers just barely open, letting in the faintest summer breeze.

Shit.  Fuck.  Shit.  This is actually real.  Someone actually broke into Castiel’s house – no _their_ house, as of a couple of hours ago, and oh god Dean didn’t even get to tell Sam – and _took Dean’s little brother_.

Dean sinks to the ground, unable to breathe fully as a thousand horrific possibilities fly into his head.

Thankfully, Cas seems to go some sort of battle-calm and launches into action, squeezing Dean’s shoulder reassuringly before he opens the window and jumps through it.  Dean can hear him rooting around outside and has a sudden panicked thought that whoever took Sam might still be out there and could get Cas too.  He stands up, but before he can call out a warning or dive out the window after his boyfriend, Cas is back in front of him.

“This is all I found,” he says, holding up an empty bottle of cheap whiskey.

Dean feels all the color drain from his face.

Oh fuck.  Oh no.

Cas drops the bottle then, reaching out to grab Dean by the shoulders and keep him upright.  “What is it?” he asks.

“It’s my dad,” Dean tells him, heart sinking to the bottom of his feet.  “My dad’s got Sam.”

* * *

“How did he get in?  How the _fuck_ did he get in?” Dean’s pacing, as he has been for the past twenty minutes, practically wearing a hole in the living room carpet.  “Did you forget to set the alarm or–”

“I set the alarm, Dean.  I know I did.”  And he does.  He set the alarm just as he’s done every night since Dean and Sam came to stay.  He never used to worry about it when he lived on his own, but with a _child_ in the house…well, he thought he had been protecting Sam from anything that could possibly happen.

Apparently he was wrong.

Dean finally stops his frantic back and forth, turning to yell at Castiel, “Then how the FUCK did he get in?”

Castiel rises from where he’s been perched on the edge of the couch, head in his hands, and moves to stand in front of Dean, grabbing him gently by the shoulders.  “Dean, I know that this is the worst case scenario, and I know that you – that _we_ – are both stressed and terrified.  But yelling at me is not going to help Sam.”  He waits for Dean to take a shaky breath before he continues.  “Now, where would your father take him?”

The question has Dean breaking away from Castiel and pacing yet again.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know!  Maybe…I mean, I don’t think he ever left Lawrence.  Maybe he took Sammy back there?”  He looks up at Castiel with determination in his eyes, storming into the entryway and starting to pull on his boots as he continues, “Yeah, that has to be it.  Right?  Cas, we have to go!”

Castiel stops him before he can grab the keys to the Impala.  “Dean, we can’t just rush off because you _think_ your father might have gone a certain way.  We have to be sure before we start in a random direction without a plan.”

“This is the best guess we’ve got, Cas.  What else are we supposed to do?  Just sit around and wait for something to happen?”

“We’re not just waiting around.  We contacted the police and they’re looking into it, Dean, and they told us it was best to wait here.”  Castiel hates the thought of it as much as Dean does, truly, but he doesn’t see how driving off into the night, tired and panicked, is a better idea.

“Screw that,” Dean growls, pushing past Castiel towards the door.  “You wanna sit here and wait, be my fuckin’ guest, but I can’t just do nothing when my dad’s somewhere out there with Sam.”  He reaches for his car keys, only to drop them in his panicked and shaky state.  “God DAMMIT!” Dean yells, fisting his hands in his hair in frustration.

The sight of him, clearly hitting his breaking point as he stares dejectedly at the fallen keys with tears in his eyes, breaks Castiel’s heart.  He approaches Dean slowly and cautiously winds his arms around the other man, half-expecting an elbow or a punch in the face.

He’s not expecting the tears.

Suddenly Dean is sobbing in his arms, mumbling about how it’s not fair and how the hell could he let this happen.  All Castiel can do is hold him tighter and promise him that it’s going to be okay, and that of course it wasn’t his fault.

Eventually Dean quiets, and they’re left clinging to each other in silence.

A knock on the door scares the both of them, jolting them out of the moment.  Dean sniffles and pulls away as Castiel goes to open the door.  He’s surprised to find Ellen, of all people, standing worriedly on his doorstep.

“Is everything alright?” she asks, before Castiel can even get out a greeting.  “I saw the lights on when I got back from the Roadhouse and thought I’d check in.  Before he can answer her, she catches sight of Dean, eyes red and teary in the entryway and rushes to him, reaching up to cup his cheek.  “Dean, sweetheart, what happened?”

Dean doesn’t seem to be capable of speech at the moment, so Castiel speaks up.  “Sam’s been taken,” he explains grimly.  “We think it was Dean’s father.”

“From the looks on your faces, I’m guessing a family reunion’s not a good thing,” Ellen says, turning to Castiel.

“No,” Dean says from behind her, voice cracking on a humorless laugh.  “No, that’s a very, very bad thing.”  He sniffles, and another tear slides down his cheek.

Castiel’s next to him in a second, wrapping his boyfriend in his arms yet again.  “We’re not sure what to do,” he tells Ellen.  “We can’t exactly go after him ourselves when we’ve got no idea where he’s headed.”

Ellen’s got her phone out before Castiel can finish his sentence, jaw set in determination.  “I know someone who can help.”

* * *

 An hour later, Dean and Cas are sitting at the kitchen table, food and hot coffee set out in front of them (Ellen had even brought over slices of pie, but Dean hasn’t been able to touch his).  Ellen’s sitting across from them, insisting that they need to eat something, for the umpteenth time.  There’s a somber tension that’s finally broken by a knock at the door.  Ellen gets up to answer it and comes back followed by a scrawny guy with an honest to god mullet.  If Dean could feel anything but absolute dread and panic right now, he’d probably laugh at the way Cas’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of their new acquaintance.

“Boys, this is Ash,” Ellen tells them.  “If anyone can find your father, Dean, it’s him.”

“That’s right, compadres.  Dr. Badass at your service!” Ash’s enthusiasm is almost more that Dean can handle right now, but luckily he gets down to business quickly, plunking a monstrous laptop on the table.  “Alright, so, John Winchester.  What am I looking for?  Car type?  License plates?  Credit cards?”

“I – I don’t know,” Dean’s surprised by the hoarseness of his own voice when he responds, grateful for the way Cas takes his hand and squeezes reassuringly.  “I took his car when I left, so I’ve got no idea what the bastard would be driving.  Pretty sure he maxed out all of his credit cards years ago too.  But maybe…you could try my mom’s name – Mary Winchester.”

Ash types away furiously for a minute before looking up and shaking his head.  “Nope.  Nothing.  Would he be able to open one in someone else’s name, maybe?” he suggests.

Dean’s about to shake his head when Cas speaks up.  “What about Sam’s?”

And, shit, Dean didn’t even think about that.  “Crap.  Yeah, he still has all of Sammy’s information.”

“Sam Winchester,” Ash says, typing away furiously.  “Alright, let’s see what I can find.”

They spend the next half hour on edge as they wait for Ash to find something, anything on John.  In the meantime , Ellen helps to tidy up the mess Dean and Cas made when they tore through the house looking for Sam, and Cas does his best to reassure Dean.

“It’s going to be alright,” he says, over and over again.  “We’re going to find him and he’s going to be fine.”

“No, Cas,” Dean argues.  “God, you – you don’t understand what my dad did.  I _promised_ Sam I would never let that happen again.”

* * *

  _Three Years Ago_

_“Yo, Winchester!” Dean looks up from the duffel he’s currently throwing clothes and toiletries into to find Aaron and Victor standing outside his dorm room door.  “You coming out with us tonight?”_

_“Nah, man.  I’m heading home for the weekend.  Been a while since I checked in on my little brother and my dad, y’know?”  Plus, his liver could really use a break.  He hasn’t exactly taken it easy since he turned 21._

_“Aw alright,” Aaron says.  “Next weekend, yeah?”_

_Dean grins, “Definitely.”  His liver doesn’t need_ too _long to recuperate.  And, after all, this is college – if he’s not getting a little rowdy on the weekends, then he’s not really getting the full experience, is he?_

_His mom used to talk about that – making sure he got “the full experience” while he was at school.  It’s one of the reasons she pushed him to apply to colleges and everything.  Despite his love of learning, Dean would have been perfectly content to stay in Lawrence and inherit the family business.  But his mom had always encouraged him to at least try college first._

_“You can always come back and take over the garage, Dean,” she had told him, “it’ll still be here when you graduate.  I just want you to get the full experience out of life before you decide that you want to settle down like that.”  Dean remembers the gentle smile she had given him then, running a hand through his hair.  “You’re so young, sweetheart.  You deserve to live a little.”_

_Dean can’t help the grin that spreads across his face at the memory.  He’s definitely been living it up at college, and he’ll forever be grateful to his mom for giving him the push to go._

_His mind is full of thoughts of her on the bus ride home (beer money’s put a little bit of a dent in Dean’s plan to save up for a car, and he wanted to surprised his dad and Sammy, so he hadn’t called for a ride).  Even after two years, he still misses her more than anything.  If he’s honest, it’s the reason why, despite the fact that he’s not even that far away, he hasn’t been home in more than a month – everything there reminds him of her, and it hurts._

_Still, he can’t wait to see Sammy.  He’s done his best to be a good big brother from school, calling to talk to his brother every chance he gets, but it feels like it’s been forever since he’s seen the kid in person.  He makes a mental note to take Sam to Toys-R-Us and get him something new as an apology for being gone for so long._

_The bus finally pulls into its stop, and Dean’s off the bus and walking towards home in a heartbeat, eager now to see his little brother._

_He’s halfway up the front steps when he realizes that his house key is still hanging on it’s hook in his dorm room._ So much for a real surprise, then _, he thinks as he knocks on the door._

_There’s no answer._

_He tries again, but still nothing.  No footsteps or voices from inside the house.  He pulls back to look and, yep, the lights are on.  Someone should be home.  His dad’s Impala is sitting in the driveway too._

_Upon closer inspection, Dean realizes that the Impala is dirtier than he’s ever seen her.  That, more than anything, tells him that something’s wrong.  His dad would never let her look like this._

_Panic suddenly has Dean’s blood pounding in his ears and he roots around in his duffel for the stash of bobby pins he keeps in there (something he had to start doing after he had locked himself out of his dorm room for the tenth time in a month)._

_Despite his practiced lockpicking skills, Dean’s shaking hands mean it’s entirely too long before he’s back up and turning the doorknob.  When the door swings open, he freezes in place, shocked at what he’s seeing._

_Jesus Christ, what the hell’s happened to the place?_

_Dean drops his duffle numbly, eyes going wide at the forest of empties that litter the normally pristine living room.  There are more bottles here than he’s seen at most frat parties.  Have these been building up for the entire month?  What the hell?_

_He’s about to call out for his dad and try to figure out what the deal is when there’s a sharp cry from upstairs._

_Dean doesn’t really know what he expects to find as he rushes up the stairs to Sam’s room.  All he knows is that the house is as filthy as he’s ever seen it, and his little brother sounds like he’s in pain.  His mind jumps to all kinds of crazy scenarios – and he really needs to stop watching so many crime dramas._

_Despite every terrible thing he’s imagined in the short trip up the stairs, what Dean finds is the farthest thing from his mind, and it stops him short in the doorway.  That’s his_ dad _with his hand wrapped angrily around Sam’s tiny wrist, his_ dad’s _palm cracking across his little brother’s face, his_ dad’s _handprint a startling red on Sammy’s cheek._

_“What the fuck?” he shouts, startling both his brother and his Dad.  Sam starts to cry, sharp wails echoing in the small room._

_John’s head snaps up quickly, but his eyes are glassy.  It’s not hard for Dean to put two and two together, quickly making sense of all the bottles downstairs.  “Dean?” his dad blinks at him, pulling away from Sam only to sway on his feet. “What’re you doin’ home?”_

_Dean doesn’t bother answering, instead he goes straight for Sam, placing himself in between him and his dad as he crouches down.  “Sammy, are you okay?” He knows the answer before he even finishes the question.  This close up, he can see the bruises around Sam’s wrist and arm and the way his face is just as red on the other side.  Rage swells up inside him, but he forces it down in favor of concern and reaches up to wipe the tears from the unmarked side of Sam’s face.  “What happened?”_

_“Nothin’ happened,” his dad slurs from behind him.  “Kid just needed a little discipline is all.  He’s fine.  Right, kiddo?  Come here.”  John lays a heavy hand on Dean’s shoulder, trying to move past him, but Dean’s whipped around and standing in a heartbeat, shoving his dad to crash against the wall.  He doesn’t want to fight him, but he’s going to do whatever he has to do to get his brother out of here._

_“Don’t fucking_ touch _him,” he growls.  He turns and scoops Sammy up as gently as he can in his anger.  “Come on, buddy, we’re gonna get you out of here okay?_

 _“Like hell you are,” John yells from behind him, even as he struggles to get to his feet.  His eye’s aren’t so glassy anymore, they’re focused and_ angry _._

_Dean bolts, running down the stairs as quickly as he can without jostling Sam too much.  He grabs John’s keys off of their hook and is struggling to grab his duffle without dropping Sam when he hears bottles clinking and breaking behind them.  Apparently his dad’s made it down the stairs._

_He drops the duffle in favor of yanking open the door and is halfway out when Sam screams and pain lances through Dean’s right side.  He spares a glance over his shoulder just long enough to catch sight of John with a broken bottle in his hand, but then he’s out the door, pain all but forgotten and he and Sam scramble into the Impala._

_He can hear their dad yelling from the driveway as he peels out in the Impala – angry threats and promises – but Dean drives on without looking back._

* * *

“I didn’t find out the worst of it until later,” Dean says, “the burns and the cuts and –”  Castiel lays a hand on his shoulder as he struggles to continue.  “Sam told me it was like that every time I went back to school, you know?  And I didn’t even know about the drinking or any of it.  Dad always cleaned up before I came home, you know?  Put Sammy in long sleeves every time.  I don’t know how I didn’t _see_ –”  Dean breaks off with a frustrated growl, running a hand down his face before he looks up at Cas and explains, “I promised him when I got him out of there that he’d never have to see our dad again.  And now look where he is.”  Dean drops his head into his hands.  “What the hell am I going to do?”

“ _We_ ,” Castiel tells him, sounding much more calm and assured than he really feels, “are going to find out where your father is headed, and _we_ are going to get Sam back.”  He says the last few words with absolute conviction; Sam may not be his family – not by blood, at least – but in the last few months he has become incredibly attached to both him and Dean.  There’s nothing Castiel won’t do to help bring them back together.

Dean seems to understand just how strongly Castiel feels, as he looks up at him, reaching a hand out to entwine their fingers and hold on tight.  Castiel sees his own determination reflected in Dean’s eyes, and they stay locked in that moment, that promise to get Sam back, until–

“I got him!” Ash’s cry of triumph pulls their gaze away from each other to focus on him.  Even Ellen runs in from where she’d been cleaning up the living room.

“Where is he?” Dean demands.

“Albuquerque, New Mexico,” Ash says.

Castiel’s up and out of his seat in moments, giving Dean’s hand one last squeeze before he drops it.  “I’ll go pack our things.”

* * *

 Dean’s mind is racing.  His dad is in New Mexico.  His dad has Sam in New Mexico.  That’s, fuck, a good nine hours out?  And he knows his dad’s not driving the speed limit, because–

“Dean?” Ellen’s gentle hand on his shoulder pulls Dean out of his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“I was just asking you – do you know why your father might be headed that direction?  Is there something there, or…?”

Dean shakes his head, frowning down at the kitchen table.  “I don’t think so.  I mean, shit, I have no clue.  God, Ellen, he’s got Sammy and I don’t even know where he’s headed or why, and how the hell are we going to find him–”

“Dean,” Ellen’s grip tightens on his shoulder as she sinks into the seat next to him, dipping her head to catch his eye, “breathe, sweetheart.  It’s going to be okay.  It’s _okay_ if you don’t know.  What matters is that we know where he is and Ash can track him from there.  Alright?”

Dean just nods numbly, trying his best to believe what she’s saying.  He can’t really process anything more at this point.  All he knows is that they’ve got a destination, and he needs to be on the road like, yesterday.

Thankfully, Cas chooses that exact moment to reappear in the doorway, duffle bags slung over his shoulders.

“Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, I love all the theories you guys had in the comments on To Find a Family for who took Sam. BUT I'm totally predictable, so of course it was John.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was hoping to get some sort of regular update schedule going for this fic, but unfortunately I'm working on a bunch of grad school applications and essays that are making that difficult (plus the holiday season has begun :P). Hopefully I'll be able to get a chapter up every couple of weeks, but please bear with me if it takes a little longer than that.
> 
> Thanks again to everyone for reading and for your comments and kudos (seriously, they always make my day!), and happy holidays, guys!!

Castiel doesn’t think he’s ever driven this fast in his life.  He’s always been cautious and stuck to the rules.  Even in the high stress environment of the ER, he’s well-versed in staying calm and collected.  Then again, he’s never cared about anything this much.

The thought makes him glance over to where Dean’s slumped against the passenger side window.  He’d panicked for the first hour of their drive before finally wearing himself out and falling into a fitful sleep.  Castiel can see the way his brow is still furrowed, even in unconsciousness, and knows that Dean is beyond worried about his brother.

If he’s honest, Castiel’s not doing much better.  The thermos of coffee from Ellen and practice from years of late nights at the hospital are keeping him awake, but they can’t stop the thoughts racing through his head.  He thinks about the scars he saw on Sam’s fragile shoulders and the fact that the same monster that hurt him has him now.  He thinks about his boyfriend and all he’s done for his little brother.  He cares more about Dean that he’d ever imagined he would, and doesn’t know what will happen if they don’t find Sam in time.

No.  He can’t think about that, because he won’t let that happen to Dean, or to Sam.

He reaches over and brushes Dean’s hair – which he hadn’t even bothered to brush before they left – back from his forehead, promising himself for the umpteenth time that he will do whatever it takes to keep this man and his brother safe.

Then he turns back to the road, grits his teeth, and pushes the gas pedal even closer to the floor.

* * *

Dean wakes up slowly, blinking in the afternoon light.  His neck’s all jacked up from sleeping leaning against the car window, and he has no idea where he is.  He looks around for Cas as he rubs at his sore neck, finding him at a gas pump towards the back of the Impala.

Dean slides out of the car and stretches, taking in the Gas’N’Sip they’re currently stopped at.  It gives him no clues as to where exactly they might be, but at least it helps ease the disorientation of waking up in an unfamiliar place.  He wanders over to where Cas is focused on the gas pump.  “Hey.”

Cas turns around with a small smile, though he’s still got that crease between his eyebrows he gets when he’s stressed out.  “Hello, Dean.  Did you sleep well?”

Dean just shrugs and runs a hand through his hair.  “I can’t believe I knocked out like that with everything going on,” he says, feeling like shit for falling asleep when Sam’s in danger.  “Sorry,” he adds, not sure whether he’s apologizing to his boyfriend or his brother.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Cas tells him.  He reaches out and pulls Dean into a quick embrace, and damn Dean did not realize how much he needed that.  “We hardly slept last night.  And being well-rested is important if we’re going to be driving for such long periods of time.”

Dean can’t really argue with that logic.  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.  But that means you need some shut-eye too.”  It’s clear from the deep bags under Cas’s eyes and the way he fumbles with the gas pump that he’s running on fumes too.  “I’m gonna run in and grab some coffee or something, and then I’ll take the next shift so you can get some sleep.”

“Sounds good,” Cas tells him, “thank you.”

“No, thank you,” Dean says.  When he gets no response, he reaches out to squeeze Cas’s shoulder and catch the other man’s eye.  “Seriously, Cas.  Thank you.  For being here and just – thanks.”

Cas hand comes up to wrap around Dean’s wrist.  “Of course, Dean,” he says, voice sincere and firm.  “There’s nowhere else I would be right now.”

Something about that hits Dean square in the chest, flooding him with a warmth that sticks with him as he breaks away from his boyfriend and heads into the gas station’s mini mart.  If – no, _when_ – they get Sam back, he’s going to have to do something for Cas to show him just how much all of this means to him.

But for now, he needs to focus on Sammy.

When Dean gets back to the car, arms loaded with coffee and snacks, Cas is in the passenger seat, just getting off of the phone.

Dean slides into the driver side, passing off the bags of food as he starts the car.  “Who was that?”

“Ellen,” Cas tells him.  “Ash got another hit on your father’s card.  He’s in the Grand Canyon.”

Dean’s pulling out onto the road in a heartbeat, mind set on the new destination.  “The Grand Canyon?  Why would he –”  A realization hits Dean out of nowhere and his heart sinks.  “Oh, shit.”

* * *

_Six Years Ago_

_“What do you think, Dean?  Worth the_ awful, terrible, way too long _trip?”_

_Dean sticks his tongue out at his dad.  He hadn’t complained_ that _much on the drive over here.  Still, he has to admit, “Yeah, it’s pretty awesome.”_

_And it is.  Despite his protests, there’s nowhere else Dean would want to be spending his summer break than on a road trip to the Grand Canyon with his parents._

_It had been his mom’s idea._ “It’ll be _fun_!” _she had said._ “Come on, don’t you want to do one big family trip before the baby gets here?  It’ll be a few years before we’ll be able to do this again with your little brother.” _Her enthusiasm had been infectious, and neither Dean nor John had been able to tell her no.  Instead, they had packed their bags and driven out to Arizona._

_“What do you think, Mom?” Dean asks, as he goes to lean against the rail overlooking the canyon alongside his parents.  “It is everything you expected from the ‘Big Family Trip’?”_

_Mary turns to smile at him.  “It’s better!” she grins, reaching out to wrap her arms around Dean and John’s waists.  “I’ve got my boys – all three of them,” she smiles softly, looking down at her swollen belly, “and the great outdoors!  What’s not to love?”_

_“The bugs, maybe?” John suggests with a laugh, swatting at a mosquito.  He turns to press a kiss to Mary’s head.  “I’ll be right back – I’m gonna go get the bug spray from the car.”_

_“Get the camera too!” Mary calls after him, before turning to Dean.  “What are the chances of him actually coming back with both things?”_

_Dean laughs.  “Slim to none.”_

_Mary grins at him for a second before her face softens.  “Come sit with me for a second,” she says, tugging Dean after her to settle on one of the benches that overlooks the canyon._

_They sit for a moment in silence, enjoying the late afternoon sun and the view, before Mary speaks up again.  “Thanks for coming with us, sweetheart,” she says.  “I’m sure you had way better things to do with your college break than to take some nerdy road trip with your parents.”_

_“Are you kidding, mom?” Dean tells her, “There’s nowhere else I would be right now.  I miss you guys when I’m at school, you know?” And he does, oddly enough.  Even though he’s just a short drive away, he’s been so busy with school work and school friends that he’s barely spent any time at home this semester.  It’s been awesome to spend some time with his parents over the summer, allowing himself to sink back into the familiar routine of home._

_“Besides,” he jokes, “I gotta get my time in before I’m not an only child anymore, and you guys forget all about me.”_

_“Oh shut up,” his mom chuckles, bumping her shoulder against his before she turns to him and holds his gaze, face serious.  “You do know the new baby’s not going to change how much we love you, right?”_

_“Of course I know that, Mom,” Dean tells her.  “I do,” he reassures her a second time.  “I’m actually really excited to meet the kid.”_

_Mary positively beams at him then, before turning to gaze at where her hands rest on her stomach, expression soft and loving.  “Me too.”_

* * *

“Anyways,” Dean tells Castiel now, “that was the last time we were all really together as a family before…”

There’s something pained about his expression that breaks Castiel’s heart.  He hurts for Dean and the fact that he lost his mother so soon, hurts for Sam because he knows what it’s like to never really know your mom.

“God,” Dean continues, still lost in his memories, “she used to make me swear up and down that I would help her take care of the baby when he was born, you know that?  ‘I’m getting older, Dean,’ she would tell me.  ‘I can’t be chasing a little kid all around the house all the time, and you know your father won’t be much help from the recliner.’  She made me promise I would always look out for my baby brother.”  Dean huffs a bitter laugh.  “Shit job I did, huh?”

Castiel speaks up, unable to watch him beat himself up about this yet again.  “Dean, what were you doing when _your father_ failed to care for Sam?”

“I was living at school, studying, hanging out with friends, partying,” Dean huffs an angry breath before he continues, “stupid shit that I never should have –”

“Dean – _Dean_ ,” Castiel is quick to cut off his tirade.  “How did your mother feel about your schooling?  Did she think it was a waste of time?”

Something softens in Dean’s expression at the mention of his mother.  “Nah, man,” he says, glancing over at Castiel, “Mom – Mom was the one who pushed me to enroll.  I mean, me and my old man would’ve been perfectly happy with me spending my days under the hood of a car, taking over his garage when I was old enough, but my mom always pushed me to at least think about doing something more with my life.”  There’s a small grin on Dean’s face now as he lets out a chuckle.  “She was even happy about me slacking off to hang out with friends, you know that?  Said she was happy I was getting the full ‘experience’ or whatever.”

Castiel can’t help but to share Dean’s soft smile.  Mary Winchester sounds like an incredible mother, and once again he aches with both his own loss and that of Sam and Dean.  “Do you really think that a woman who wanted so much to see you succeed, who clearly loved you as much as she did, would be disappointed that you put your schooling first and trusted your father to care for your brother, as he should have?” Castiel asks softly.  “I never knew your mother, Dean, but that doesn’t sound right to me.”

Dean looks over him with wide eyes, shame turning to grief and something fond on his face before he turns back to the road.  Nothing more is said on the subject, but Dean reaches over to take Castiel’s hand firmly in his own.

“God, Cas, I’m so glad you’re here.  I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Castiel doesn’t know what he’d do without Dean either.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank you guys, again, for all of the feedback and comments and sweet messages...they absolutely make my day :). Hopefully you guys all had a fantastic holiday season between the last chapter and this one! Also, I am SO SORRY to have kept you all waiting so long. I had every intention of getting this whole work posted as soon as possible, but real life has seriously been getting in the way of writing. I'm nearing the end of grad school apps now, though, so hopefully I'll have more time to write soon. In the meantime, have another chapter!

It’s night by the time they make it to the Grand Canyon, and the darkness lends an eerie feeling to an all-too familiar trip.  Dean’s lost in thought as he drives – mind full of happy memories from the trip he took with his parents what seems like a lifetime ago, and memories of how that lifetime seemed to end when they lost his mom.  It’s hard to believe how much Dean’s life has changed in the past three years.  He was just starting to think things were looking up, too – finally getting back to normal.

And then his dad had to go and fuck everything up.

There are no words to express just how terrified Dean is for his brother.  He thinks if he wasn’t so focused on finding Sam, he’d have just about lost his mind right now.  As it is, he can’t make himself focus on anything other than getting to that one overlook point as quickly as possible.

Cas seems to understand that Dean can’t process any kind of conversation right now, and stays blessedly silent in the passenger seat.  He hasn’t slept like he said he would, though; he just sits there, gaze moving between Dean’s face and the road ahead of him, holding tight to Dean’s hand the entire time.

Dean’s more thankful for that than he could ever say.

He’s even more thankful that Cas drops his hand as soon as they pull into the small parking lot by the overlook, seeming to sense that Dean’s going to bolt out of the car as soon as possible.  And he does, pulling crookedly into a space and throwing the car into park, barely remembering to unbuckle before he’s out the door.

It doesn’t matter, though.  There’s no one here.

“FUCK!” he yells, his voice loud in the silence of the night.  He kicks out at the nearest bench, and the pain that pulses through his foot only adds to his frustration.  “We’re too fucking late,” he growls, sinking onto the bench and dropping his head into his hands.

He nearly jumps at the feeling of fingers detangling his hands from where they’re tangled in his hair, rubbing soothingly at his abused scalp– he’d nearly forgotten that Cas was here with him.

“It’s okay, Dean.  It’s going to be alright,” he says, though his voice sounds just as tense as Dean feels.

Dean can’t take it anymore, all of his stress and worry and fear erupting at once.  He jolts up from the bench, tearing away from Cas’s reassuring touches.  “How the FUCK is it supposed to be okay?  Because I’m not seeing a light at the end of the tunnel here, Cas.  My dad has Sammy, and we have NO IDEA where the fuck he is right now, or what he could be doing to – oh _god_.”  Dean hunches over suddenly, desperately fighting the urge to retch into a national landmark.  When he stands back up he realizes there are tears streaming down his face, and he has no idea when they started.  “What are we going to do, Cas?  What the hell are we going to do?”

Cas stands from the bench and comes to wrap his arms around Dean for what seems like the hundredth time today.  It helps, _god_ does it help, but there’s still a hurricane of terror and pain raging in Dean’s gut.  So he wraps his arms around Cas as tight as they’ll go and buries his face in the other man’s shirt.  “I hate this,” he sobs.

“I know,” Cas says, “I know.  But we are going to find Sam.”  Dean can feel the force of his words reverberating in his chest as he continues, “I promise you, Dean.  We will find your brother, and it is going to be okay.”

Dean holds onto those words even tighter than he’s clinging to his boyfriend.

* * *

 Castiel makes the executive decision that they’re going to have to stop for the night.  Dean argues of course, but even his stubborn determination is fading with their lack of sleep.  Plus, Castiel points out, they’re once again without a solid destination, so they might as well rest until Ash can find something else.

Dean calls Ellen and Ash to let them know what happened while Castiel checks the both of them into a motel.  They’re dead on their feet by the time they make it to their room, both men barely managing to strip off their shoes and outerwear before crawling into bed.

As tired as he is, Castiel can’t seem to get to sleep.  He stares up at the ceiling for what feels like hours, terrifying thoughts running back and forth through his head.  He’s done his best to be strong for Dean, to be the one to keep them going.  It’s something he’s used to – compartmentalizing, detaching from his emotions – a skill he’s had to develop in the chaos and trauma of the emergency room.  But now that there’s no task to focus on, Castiel is worried and terrified, and he can’t stop thinking about all of the horrifying possible ends this trip could have.  Every time he shuts his eyes, he sees the scars that litter Sam’s back.  Every time it’s quiet, he hears Sam’s sharp cry from last night.  He doesn’t want that to be the last thing he hears from the child he’s come to consider his family.

A quiet sniffle from the other side of the bed tears Castiel out of his own head. When he rolls onto his side, he finds himself staring at Dean’s back.  The other man’s shoulders are shaking.

“Dean?” he asks softly.  He reaches and lays a gentle hand on his boyfriend’s arm, and that’s all it takes to get Dean to roll over, eyes full of tears as he blinks up at Castiel.

“Sorry,” Dean says, trying to wipe the tears from his face, to no avail.  “I just can’t stop thinking about what that bastard could be doing to Sam right now and, jesus, Cas, what if it’s already too late?”

“No,” Castiel says firmly, denying his own thoughts as well as Dean’s.  He won’t allow himself to think that John might have done something so terrible.  Deep down, he knows it’s a possibility, but he refuses to believe it until he has proof.  In the meantime, he reaches out for Dean, pulling him as close as possible.  “We’re going to find him, Dean,” he whispers solemnly.  “We _are_.”  He’s said these same words so many times today, and he has to believe them.  It’s the only thing keeping both of them going right now.

They don’t say anything else, but they cling tight to each other in the dark until, eventually, they both drift off into sleep.

It feels like it’s barely been a few minutes when a shrill beeping wakes them.  Castiel sits up to grab his phone and pull up his texts, Dean up and leaning in to read over his shoulder a second later.

_From: Ash_

_John’s in Colorado_

Castiel’s confused.  “What’s he doing in Colorado?” he mutters under his breath.  He turns to gauge Dean’s reaction, hackles rising at the look on his boyfriend’s face.

“Home,” Dean says grimly.  “He’s taking Sam home.”

* * *

They’re in the car not fifteen minutes later, Dean white-knuckling the steering wheel as he stares down the road in front of him.  He doesn’t want to think about John taking Sam home, back to their old house.  His head is filled with images of the house as he last remembers it, floor littered with empty bottles, his dad and Sam in the nursery, his dad–

“Where is home, Dean?” Cas’s soft, tentative question interrupts Dean’s twisting thoughts.  Oh, right.  Cas doesn’t know.  Cas doesn’t know because Dean absolutely doesn’t talk about it.  Now, though, he doesn’t really have a choice.

“Lawrence, Kansas,” he tells Cas.  The words are almost unfamiliar on his tongue.  He thinks about what happened all the time, but Dean does not talk about home.

Cas seems to get that on some level, letting silence fill the car again for a while.  Eventually though, he asks.  “Is – is your father why you left?”

Dean nods, letting out a heavy sigh.  “Had to get the hell outta dodge before my dad could find Sammy,” he explains.  “Neither of us was gonna be safe there anymore.”

He knows it’s true, knows that leaving was the best way to keep Sam safe, and yet there’s still something like regret that settles in Dean’s stomach.  He hates the fact that he had to take Sam away from the place where he was born, the place where there mom is buried.  He’ll never forget having to make that decision.

* * *

_Three Years Ago_

_Dean drives out of their neighborhood without any sort of destination in mind.  He can’t really focus on that right now – not when he’s trying to comfort Sammy and keep the car on the road.  He would pull over, but he doesn’t want to risk their dad somehow catching up with them.  The throbbing pain in his side is a harsh reminder that he doesn’t really know what his dad might be capable of at this point._

_Luckily, some part of his brain is thinking clearly enough to set him on the familiar route back to school, and he’s pulling into the dorm parking lot before he really registers where they are.  He parks in the closest spot and shuts the car off before turning to look at his brother._

_His heart breaks at the sight.  Sam’s curled in on himself in the passenger seat, eyes shut tight and shoulders shaking.  Dean reaches out carefully, not wanting to scare his brother more that he clearly already is._

_“Hey, buddy?” he says softly, resting his hand gently on Sam’s shoulder.  The action has Sam whipping his head up to stare at Dean, eyes wide.  “It’s alright,” Dean reassures him, “you’re alright.  But how about we go inside now, okay?”_

_Sam surprises Dean by crawling over to him and clinging tight to his side.  It hurts like a bitch, but there’s no way Dean’s going to deny his brother this comfort.  Instead, he gathers the boy up in his arms, sliding out of the Impala’s front seat and heading out of the parking garage._

_“Dean?” Sam asks quietly as they trek over to Dean’s dorm building._

_“Yeah, Sammy?”_

_“Where’re we?”_

_“This is where I live, remember?  You helped me move when I went back to school this year.” Dean’s careful to omit the fact that their dad was there then too, not wanting to bring him up when Sam finally seems to have quieted down a little bit._

_Luckily, Sam just nods at the explanation.  “Okay.”_

_They make it through the building and up to Dean’s room without any issues.  There are a few people who give Dean strange looks – and Dean’s acutely aware of the fact that he’s not only carrying a toddler on a college campus, but he’s also still bleeding from his side – but luckily all of his friends went out with Aaron and Victor tonight._

_As he unlocks his door, Dean sends out a silent prayer of thanks that he got a single room this year – all of this would’ve been really hard to explain to a roommate.  He sets Sam down gently on his bed, realizing for the first time that his brother’s clothes are now covered in blood.  He’s pretty sure it’s not Sam’s, but he figures he needs to check just in case._

_“Hey, Sammy,” he says gently.  “Let’s get your shirt off, okay?  I just wanna make sure you’re okay, and then I’ll get you a nice clean warm one to wear, alright?”_

_Sam nods, and Dean reaches for the hem of his shirt.  He tugs it up and off, completely unable to hold back his shocked gasp when he sees the state of Sam’s shoulders.  They’re littered with cuts and what Dean thinks have to be burn scars.  The sight has his stomach turning violently, but he fights the urge to throw up in favor of kneeling down so he’s looking his brother in the eye._

_“Sammy,” he asks.  “Did dad – did he do this to you?”_

_There’s a pause before Sam gives him a short nod.  “I was bad,” he explains, not looking Dean in the eye.  “’M sorry.”_

_Anger rushes through Dean, along with a fierce and bitter hatred for his Dad.  He has to force his next words to be gentle.  “Hey,” he says, dipping his head down to catch Sam’s eyes.  “Listen to me, okay?  This is_ not your fault _.  You hear me, Sammy?”  Sam stares at him for a minute, and Dean can see the tears start to well up in his eyes._

_“Why was he so mad?” Sam asks finally.  “What did I do?”_

_“Oh, buddy,” Dean says, unable to hold back his own tears as he wraps his brother up in his arms.  “You didn’t do anything, okay?  Dad is…dad’s sick, alright?  He’s sick and it made him do bad things, Sammy.  But none of that is your fault.  You didn’t do anything wrong, you got that?”  He feels Sam sniffle and nod against his chest and he can’t help but hold the boy just a little bit tighter._

_Dean doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but it’s long enough for Sam to fall asleep.  He moves to set his brother down on his bed, and pain flashes through his side.  Oh.  Right.  His dad – his fucking_ father _– cut him with a bottle.  He figures now is as good a time as any to get himself bandaged up.  Dean does the best job he can with the first-aid kit they’d given him at orientation.  It’s not perfect, but he disinfects the cut and manages to get the bleeding stopped.  He’s just changing into a fresh shirt when there’s a knock on the door._

_Dean freezes.  Could their dad have found them already?_

_The knock sounds again.  “Dean?”  Oh, thank god.  It’s not his dad, it’s just Garth, the RA.  “Dean, you in there?  I just wanted to check in, man.  Your dad just called.  Wanted to know where you were.  I told him I thought you were here, but–”_

_Dean’s yanking open the door in a heartbeat. “You did WHAT?”_

_Garth shifts from foot to foot as he answers.  “Was I not supposed to?  I mean, I know everyone wants your privacy when they’re at school and everything, but it was your dad and he sounded like something had happened and–”  Oh great.  Now he’s rambling.  Dean doesn’t have time for this.  Not if his dad knows where they are._

_“Dude, Garth, it’s alright, okay?  Thanks for, uh, letting me know.”  He doesn’t wait for a response before shutting the door and locking it, turning around to look over his room._

_He needs to pack.  He needs to get some shit together, and they need to leave.  Now._

_It takes Dean all of ten minutes to get a duffel packed with all of the essentials.  He wrestles his stash of savings out from under his mattress, shoving that into the bag last.  It’s not much, but it should get them out of Lawrence at least._

_Dean zips up the bag and heaves a heavy sigh as he looks around his room one last time like it might tell him what he should do._

_He’s not ready.  He doesn’t have a plan.  He doesn’t have car seat or clothes for Sam, and he’s in no way prepared to have to take care of a toddler.  But as he turns to look down at where Sam’s curled up in the pile of laundry on his bed, Dean knows he’s going to do whatever it takes to help his little brother._

_“I’ll keep you safe, buddy,” he says, reaching out to push Sam’s hair back from his forehead, “I promise.  Dad is never going to find us.”_

_He doesn’t quite know how, but Dean is going to keep that promise if it’s the last thing he does._

* * *

“We kept moving around after that,” Dean explains.“Seemed like the best way to keep Dad off our asses, you know?I wasn’t sure if he’d have a way to track us or anything, but I wasn’t about to take any chances.It was rough for a while there – lived out of motels, mostly, worked some odd jobs to keep Sammy fed – but we managed.”

Castiel looks over at him then.Dean says it all so matter of factly, like it was an obvious choice to drop everything and take care of his brother, not something truly amazing.Castiel wants to tell him just that, but he’s learned over the course of their time together that Dean feels awkward under so much praise.So he settles for reaching out and squeezing his hand, asking instead, “What made you settle down eventually?”

Dean shrugs.“Sam was old enough to start school,” he tells Castiel.“Figured we had been on the move long enough for my dad to have lost any sort of trail, and I didn’t want to keep the kid from having some sort of normal life. Plus, if there was anything my mom valued, it was education.She’d have been pissed if I’d kept Sam from that, you know?So I drove us to Dallas, got an apartment and a couple of jobs, and well, that was that.”

Castiel’s still curious.“What made you choose Dallas?” he asks.

Dean chuckles a bit as he thinks about the answer to that one.“Honestly?” he says, glancing over at his boyfriend.“I probably watched a few too many cowboy movies when I was a kid.Thought it would be cool to live in Texas.”

A smile pulls at Castiel’s lips at that answer.It’s such a Dean thing to do.He finds himself laughing suddenly, perhaps a little hysterically, but he thinks that’s understandable what with all the stress they’re under on this trip.It’s worth it when Dean grins back at him, despite the way his eyes are tired and his brow is furrowed.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, reaching out to shove Castiel’s shoulder gently.“Laugh it up chuckles.But I met _you_ in Dallas, so it wasn’t exactly a bad choice, now was it?”

Castiel’s laughter fades into a grin as he looks over at Dean.“No,” he says. “No it wasn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I've never been to the Grand Canyon - or really anywhere I mention in this fic - so sorry for any inaccuracies!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm super sorry for making you guys wait so long for a new chapter. If you've read any of my other fics, you know that I mostly write ridiculous fluff. This fic is pretty much the opposite of that, so it's been a bit of a challenge to write. This chapter was particularly stubborn, but I've finally gotten it to where it needs to be.
> 
> That said, this is the bad part, people. But I promise it gets happier after this.
> 
> As always, I hope you all enjoy :)

The break from their stress, though wonderful, is fleeting. The closer they get to Lawrence, the tenser Dean gets. There are so many memories here, both good and bad. So many things he hasn’t allowed himself to think about in years.

By the time they pull into his old neighborhood, he’s a wreck, hands shaking on the steering wheel, palms clammy.

It seems his nerves are catching, if the way Cas is sitting ramrod straight in the passenger seat is any indication. His shoulders are stiff as he takes in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Unfortunately for Dean, everything here is entirely _too_ familiar. He pulls up in front of his old house, and it looks like nothing has changed. No one would look at this place and have any suspicion of the shit that happened here.

Dean doesn’t bolt from the car like he did at the Grand Canyon. He can’t. The minute he pulls into the driveway and turns off the car, every muscle in his body freezes up. He just sits there, staring up at what used to be his home, imagination kicking into overdrive as he thinks about what they might find inside.

Thankfully, before he can work himself up too much, there’s a hand on his arm.

“Dean?”

Oh. Right. Cas is still here. Dean takes a deep breath. Cas is here, and he’s not alone, and they’re gonna get Sammy back. They _are_. He lets out a rush of air before turning to Cas and giving him a sharp nod. “I’m okay. I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Picking the lock on the front door is almost too reminiscent of the last time Dean was here. The only thing that keeps Dean’s hands even remotely steady is the fact that Cas is crouched down right here next to him, hand warm on Dean’s back.

After what seems like an eternity, Dean finally gets the door unlocked. He stands and pushes it open, but suddenly it’s too close to that day three years ago. The day he walked into his house to find that everything he knew had changed.

He can’t look.

* * *

Castiel wasn’t expecting Dean’s old house to look so…normal. He expected something run down, something that gave passerby some hint as to the evil that lived within. But there’s nothing like that. It’s a nice house – well kept even – in a nice neighborhood. To anyone walking by, it would appear completely normal.

On the outside at least.

Dean pushes the door open and stiffens, the tension in his body evident even through his usual layers of clothing. Concerned, Castiel reaches out to touch the other man’s shoulder, try to comfort him. Before he can even make contact, Dean is turning suddenly, burying his face in Castiel’s shirt.

“I – I can’t,” he manages to get out.

Castiel has his arms up and around his boyfriend before he realizes it, holding him tight, stroking a hand through his hair, and murmuring reassurances even as he takes in the scene in front of him. The interior of the house is an absolute mess – bottles everywhere, dirty dishes and trash scattered in between, and stains on nearly every surface. It’s hard to believe that someone could do so much damage in three short years.

“Dean,” Castiel finally says. “Do you want me to go in first? I can come back and tell you what I fi–”

“No,” Dean grits out, squeezing him tighter for just a second before straightening up and squaring his shoulders. “I have to do it.”

Part of Castiel wants to hold him back, to keep him from reliving what he’s seen here, but he knows that Dean needs something to ground him right now, knows that he needs to be doing something just as badly as Castiel does. “Okay,” he says, nodding to himself. “But I’m right here with you.”

Dean lets out a shaky breath, reaching back for Castiel’s hand. He holds it tight as the make their way into the house.

* * *

 The smell hits them first, and it’s awful. Even Cas, who spends most of his time surrounded by sick hospital patients, looks close to gagging at the stench of stale booze, rotting garbage, and other things Dean would rather not think about.

Still, they push on. It’s like some dark parody of their laser tag game forever ago, Dean thinks, the way they move in synch towards the stairs, careful not to make any noise (which is harder than it looks with bottles covering nearly every inch of the floor).

Dean leads them to his old room first, gripping Cas’s hand impossibly tighter as he pushes open the door. It looks just as he remembered, and the thick layer of dust covering everything tells him no one’s been in here in ages, maybe even since he left. The only thing that’s different is that his duffel bag, the one he dropped as he rushed Sam out of the house three years ago, lies crumpled at the foot of the far wall. From the dent in the drywall, Dean’s guessing John threw it in here at some point. Gritting his teeth at the thought of his father’s rage, Dean backs out of the room, pulling Cas with him towards the nursery next.

It’s an absolute wreck. Not one thing in the room is intact – furniture tossed about and in pieces, wallpaper ripped, and holes smashed in the walls – even the framed photo, the one with mom smiling down at a tiny baby Sam, is destroyed. There’s no one in here besides them, but Dean can’t seem to leave. Cas has to pull him from the room, gently leading him into the one across the hall.

Dean hasn’t been inside his parents’ room in ages, but the memories come flooding back the moment he crosses the threshold. Nights when he had a bad dream and slept curled between his parents, the mornings when he and John would go all out to bring Mary breakfast in bed, and the one peaceful day they had after they brought Sammy home.

* * *

  _Five Years Ago_

_Dean moves carefully up the stairs and into the hallway, taking slow measured steps so as not to jostle the tray in his hands. As he gets closer to his parents’ room, he can hear his dad speaking softly._

_“…sure you’re alright? I don’t remember you being so tired when we brought Dean home.”_

_“I’m fine, John, I swear. I was a lot younger when we brought Dean home. I might just take a little bit longer to recover this time around, old as I am.”_

_Dean’s almost at the doorway now, and can see his dad chuckle and lean back against the windowsill. “You make it sound like we’re ancient.”_

_“You kindof_ are _, you know?” Dean volunteers helpfully as he rounds the doorway into the room. “I mean, look at all that grey hair. Totally ancient.” He grins at his dad, who’s smiling back, despite the bags under his eyes from a late night with the baby._

_“It’s rude to eavesdrop, you know,” his mom chastises, laughter clear in her eyes._

_“Sorry,” Dean says with a shrug and a grin, setting the tray down on the bed next to her. “Can I make it up to you with some breakfast?”_

_Mary smiles as she takes in the tray full of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and orange juice. “Well if there’s one thing that runs in this family, it’s the ability to be bribed with food.”_

_As if on cue, a wail sounds from the nursery._

_“Apparently Sammy’s hungry too,” John says with a chuckle, heading for the door. “I’ll go get him.”_

_In the meantime, Mary shuffles the tray over on the bed, patting the space next to her for Dean to sit._

_“How’re you doing, Mom?” he asks as he settles in._

_“About as well as can be expected,” she tells him, although she looks exhausted as she reaches up to push his hair back from his face. “How about you, sweetheart?” Were you able to get any sleep last night? I know your brother was a bit loud.”_

_“I’m all good,” Dean assures her. “Nothin’ a little Metallica couldn’t drown out.”_

_“I don’t know how you can sleep through that noise, either,” his mom says._

_Dean’s about to protest her calling his music “noise” when his dad comes back in, baby Sammy in his arms._

_Dean still can’t get over how tiny his little brother is. He’s seen babies before, sure, but he’s never seen one this small, this new. He already loves the kid more than he can say, and knows he’s gonna have no problem helping his parents look out for the little one._

_“There he his!” his mom says, as his dad settles onto the bed on her other side, shifting Sam into her arms. “Look at you,” she croons softly at the tiny bundle. “My little miracle baby.”_

_There’s a quiet moment as they all stare down at Sam, the baby’s eyes carefully returning their gaze as he pokes his tiny tongue out at them._

_“Aw,” Mary says with a small sniffle. “It really doesn’t get better than this, does it? Just spending the morning with my boys.”_

_“No it doesn’t,” John confirms, as Dean hums in agreement._

_His dad wraps an arm around his mom as she cradles Sammy, stretching it far enough to give Dean’s shoulder a squeeze. They sit there peacefully until Dean’s stomach grumbles loudly and they laugh and dig into the food. It’s one of the best mornings of Dean’s life, and if he knew it would be the last with his mom, he would have done all he could to make it go on forever._

* * *

 As Dean looks around now, he realizes that, with the exception of his father’s side of the bed, nothing has changed in here since that morning. Everything is in exactly the same place, not a speck of dust on anything – the only room in the house that’s clean. Through the open closet door, Dean can see his mom’s old clothes exactly where she left them.

How had he never noticed this before? Between when they lost mom and when he took Sammy, there had to be some point when he had looked in here. How did he miss the glaring signs that his dad’s mourning had gone too far. Maybe if he had, all of this could have been prevented, and Sammy would still be–

“Dean!” Cas’s voice finally pulls him out of his spiral, and he realizes he’s on his knees in the doorway, breathing heavy. Cas’s hands are firm but gentle on his shoulders. “Are you alright?”

Dean wipes a hand down his face, rising shakily to his feet. “I’m okay, I’m okay. There’s just…there’s a lot of memories here.” No Sam, though, he realizes belatedly, panic rising yet again. Abruptly, he turns to re-search through all the rooms. “Come on,” he tells Cas, “there’s gotta be some clue about where they’ve gone.”

As thoroughly as they search, there’s nothing. Dean does get his answer, however, to the question of how John found them.

“Dean,” Cas calls, emerging from the kitchen. “Look at this.” He hands Dean a crumpled sheet of paper.

It’s a print out of an email – one sent out by Dick Roman.

“Looks like it was sent to every garage in the States,” Cas points out.

“Son of a _bitch_ ,” Dean says, unable to believe what he’s looking at. In his attempt to keep Dean unemployed, the fucker had sent out all of his information, including his address.

He wants to be pissed. Wants to yell and scream and then find Dick Roman and beat his fucking face in. But he can’t afford to be angry right now. He has to focus and find Sam.

As always, Cas seems to be on the same wavelength, already pulling his phone out and dialing Ash.

While Cas talks, Dean stares unseeing at the paper in his hands. Where would John go? Where would he take Sammy? There’s a dark part of his brain that tells him maybe John got too angry, maybe he’s out… _disposing_ of Sam right now. Dean shuts that thought down as quickly as he can. They are not too late. He refuses to be too late.

Cas’s conversation has become background noise to Dean’s racing thoughts, but he tunes back in time to hear something about a credit card charge at a flower shop. Just like that, Dean knows exactly where his father is.

“Come on,” he grits out, barely letting Cas hang up the phone before he’s dragging him out the door and into the Impala.

* * *

There’s something about the look of grim determination on Dean’s face that has Castiel believing, without a doubt, that wherever they end up next, they _will_ find John Winchester. He doesn’t know where they’re headed, doesn’t want to ask Dean and break his focus or the tense silence that has filled the car, but he doesn’t think it’s anywhere good.

Sure enough, fifteen minutes of flying down the road finds them at a cemetery. Dean is out of the car and running before Castiel can even get his seatbelt off, fumbling with the release. With Dean already out of sight, he heads off in what is hopefully the right direction.

Castiel knows what name he’s looking for on the headstones, but he has no idea where Mary Winchester might be. After a frustrating and panicked five minutes of searching, someone starts shouting in the distance off to his left.

Castiel takes off running.

What he sees when he reaches his destination stops him short. Dean stands opposite the headstone that must belong to his mother. A grizzled older man that must be John Winchester stands nearly on top of the grave, large headstone concealing most of him from the view of the few other people at the cemetery. One of his hands holds a bouquet of flowers. The other has a vice grip on Sam’s tiny arm.

_Sam_.

The boy looks terrified, staring wide-eyed at Dean and breathing heavily, tear tracks evident on his face. Castiel follows his gaze and finds Dean looking just as frightened as his brother, but spitting pure fury.

“…don’t for the life of me understand how the _fuck_ could you do that to a kid. A fucking _child_. _YOUR_ child.” He isn’t quite yelling, but there’s such an intensity to his words that he might as well be.

“This is _not_ my child,” John hisses back, shaking Sam by the arm, hard. “This – this _demon_ is the thing that killed my wife. It deserves to suffer the same way she did.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake – SAM DIDN’T KILL MOM, YOU _CRAZY BASTARD_!!” Dean is yelling now, all traces of fear gone from his expression, replaced with rage. “You really think she would see it that way, huh? You think Mom would want you laying even one fucking _finger_ on him?”

“Don’t you _dare_ speak for her,” John spits, “she was _MY_ WIFE!”

“And she was _MY_ MOTHER!”

Suddenly everything escalates. Both of them are shouting, people around them finally catching on that this is not a typical family argument. Sam starts crying loudly, sobs dissolving into huge wheezing breaths and then a coughing fit that wracks his small frame.

His asthma.

Thankfully, Castiel thought to bring Sam’s inhaler, has had it in his pocket the entire time. But he has no way to get it to him in the midst of all this chaos. He doesn’t want to step in only for John to flip and hurt Sam.

Instead, he makes his way over to Dean, grabbing him by the arm in an attempt to shut him up for a moment. It doesn’t work. Dean keeps on yelling. John doesn’t even seem to notice the new addition to their family drama, screaming right back. With Sam’s coughing and wheezing getting worse, the noise seems to grow louder and louder, until suddenly John’s voice rises above the din.

“Will you SHUT THE _FUCK_ UP,” he roars.

The world seems to go silent. Castiel turns from Dean to John, only to find that the flowers have dropped from his hand. In their place is a gun, and it’s pointed right at Sam.

Everything stops in that moment. Castiel can feel Dean lock up under his hands, but where his boyfriend freezes, he jumps in.

“He needs his inhaler,” he says gently, the way he speaks to uncooperative or volatile patients. He takes a step towards John, just slightly in front of Dean, his hands up. “He has asthma, and he needs his inhaler.”

“Who the _fuck_ are you?” John asks, turning to glare at Castiel without taking the gun off of Sam, who’s still wheezing heavily, tears streaming down his face, eyes locked on the gun.

“My name is Castiel,” he says, taking a slow step forward. “I’m a friend of Dean’s.” Another step. “I’m also a nurse, and if you let me I can hel–”

“Don’t you _dare_ take another step forward,” John threatens. He shifts his grip on the gun, cocking it. “You think I can’t see what you’re trying to do here, huh? You think you’re just gonna take this away from me?” John turns away from Castiel then, focusing back on Sam and moving his finger to the trigger. “No,” he growls out. “Not when I’ve already waited too _FUCKING_ LONG for this!”

A shot rings out.

Sam screams.

Dean screams.

Castiel stands frozen in shock.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

John Winchester hits the ground with a heavy thud, as police rush in from behind them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for scaring you guys at the end of that last chapter (but really, I couldn't resist a little more drama :P). Hopefully everyone caught that last line, so I didn't leave you in TOO much suspense!
> 
> We're getting to the end here, guys! Just this chapter and the epilogue to go. Thanks again to everyone who's been reading for your awesome comments and for being so patient with me and my taking entirely long to get chapters out. I hope you enjoy :).

The next few seconds are chaos. Castiel finds himself unable to do anything but stand and watch as everyone around him flies into action. Dean is at Sam’s side in a heartbeat, sweeping him up into his arms and away from where their father lies bleeding on their mother’s grave. A blonde officer approaches John Winchester, rolling him over and kicking his gun away before checking for a pulse. She calls out for an ambulance, and Castiel doesn’t know whether or not he should be disappointed or relieved that his boyfriend’s father is still alive. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks he should help triage the man, but it’s not enough to get his feet moving.

Suddenly there’s a hand on his shoulder, and the noise of the scene around him floods his senses.

“Sir? Sir, are you alright?” The hand on his shoulder shakes him gently, and he turns to find a motherly-looking brunette officer looking up at him with concern.

“Are you alright?” she repeats. “Do you need to get checked out by the paramedics?”

“No,” he tells her, his brain whirring back into action, immediately jumping to _find Sam, help Sam_. “I need to…” he doesn’t even finish his sentence, looking around for Sam and Dean, spotting them under a nearby tree.

“Dean!” he’s by his boyfriend’s side in an instant, crouching down to where the brothers are wrapped in a tight embrace, resting a hand on each of their shoulders. Dean looks up, eyes wet but relief clear in his expression. Sam keeps his face buried in his brother’s t-shirt.

“How’s he doing?” Castiel asks gently.

Dean shakes his head. “I don’t know, man. I just – I don’t–”

“It’s okay, that’s okay,” Castiel soothes. He strokes a hand through Dean’s hair and leans in to press a gentle kiss to the other man’s temple before pulling back to look at Sam.

“Hey, Sam?” he says, voice soft. “It’s me, Castiel.”

Sam turns to him then, eyes wide and scared, but he doesn’t say a word. He’s still wheezing, though not at severely as before.

Cautiously, Castiel continues. “Do you mind if I take a look at you real quick, Sam? I have your inhaler here, too. I’m sure it will help you feel better. Would you like it?”

Slowly, Sam nods, pulling away from his brother just enough to take his inhaler from Castiel’s outstretched hand and lift it up to his mouth. Dean strokes his back throughout the process, murmuring encouragement and reassurances.

When he’s done, Sam hands the inhaler back silently. “Thank you, Sam,” Castiel says. “Does anything else hurt? Did your–” Castiel chokes on the word father – no parent should do such horrible things to their child, “did he hurt you at all?”

Sam shakes his head no, his tiny frame trembling visibly as he tucks himself back into his brother arms. Dean holds him tight, looking up at Castiel with a silent plea for direction.

“We should get him to the paramedics,” Castiel says quietly. “He doesn’t seem injured, but they should look him over just in case.

Dean nods up at him, lifting his brother gently and carrying him over to where ambulances have gathered at the edge of the cemetery, one already leaving with John Winchester inside.

Sam is eerily quiet and compliant throughout the whole process, even when the paramedics inform them that he needs to be taken to the hospital to be checked over and to better treat his asthma. He doesn’t let go of Dean, though, holding tight to his hand throughout the whole ordeal. Dean looks just as terrified as his brother.

As the ambulance packs up to take them to the hospital, Dean turns abruptly to Castiel. “Shit, Cas, we gotta move the Impala. I mean, we can come get her later or something, but I didn’t even park her right and–”

“It’s alright,” Castiel tells him, holding out a hand for the keys. “I’ll follow you two and drive her to the hospital, okay?” He wraps an arm around Dean’s shoulders, squeezing his boyfriend tight and pressing a kiss to the top of his head, inhaling the other man’s comforting scent. “It’s going to be okay, Dean. We found him. He’s safe now. It’s all going to be okay.” He holds the other man for one more moment before pulling away, hopping out of the ambulance and letting the paramedics shut the doors. He watches it drive off before heading back to where they left the Impala.

Only once he’s safely enclosed in the Impala’s familiar front seat does Castiel allow himself to cry.

* * *

Dean’s never been in an ambulance before, and he can’t say that he’d ever like a repeat of this experience. He holds tight to Sam’s tiny hand as they make their way to the hospital. He can feel the paramedic moving around, see her out of his peripheral vision, but Dean refuses to take his eyes off of his little brother. He doesn’t think he’ll ever let Sammy out of his sight again.

God, running into the cemetery to find Sam and his dad at his mom’s grave had been just about the worst experience of his life (second only to finding Sam and his dad the first time). Dean’s heart had practically stopped in his chest. He can still see it when he closes his eyes; the image seemingly seared into the backs of his eyelids. Sam and his dad, standing in front of mom’s grave – his father with roses in one hand, Sammy’s wrist in the other. To anyone else, he’s sure it must have looked like a father and son grieving, a touching scene of mourning. To Dean, it’s something he’s sure will haunt him for the rest of his life.

He shakes his head, blinking as if he can wipe the memory away and focusing back on Sam. He watches as his little brother’s wide eyes slowly blink closed, his hand going slack in Dean’s.

“What’s happening? Is he okay?”

There’s a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he doesn’t look up from Sam’s slack face. “He’s fine,” the paramedic – Jenna or Jenny or something – assures him. “Some of the medication we gave him might cause some drowsiness, but it’s best we give it to him now in case of…” Her voice becomes a blur as she launches into an explanation of medical things Dean’s in no state to even try to understand right now. God, he wishes Cas was here to help translate.

Thankfully, it’s not a long drive to the hospital, and they’re wheeling Sam out of the ambulance and into the hospital’s double doors in no time. Dean follows closely, tearing his gaze away from Sam only when he realizes that the chaos on the other end of the emergency room is the hospital staff rushing to save his father.

Part of him hopes the fucker dies.

The other part of him isn’t sure what to feel.

He’s not sure what part’s winning at this point, and, frankly, he’s too emotionally exhausted to care. The only thing he knows right now is that he’s really fucking relieved to have his brother back.

Nurses come by and wheel Sam into his own room, away from the chaos of the ER. They hand him some forms and tell him the doctor will be in shortly before leaving Dean and his brother alone. Dean just stares blankly at the paperwork in his hands, not seeing much of anything at all.

Thankfully, Cas rushes into the room a few minutes later, bee-lining right to Dean’s side.

“How is he?” he asks, out of breath. “What did the doctors say?”

“They haven’t been in here yet,” Dean tells him. “Just the nurses who brought him in.”

“They haven’t–” Cas looks over at where Sam’s asleep in the too-big hospital bed, running a hand through his hair before reaching out to give Dean’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll be right back.”

He leaves the room for a few minutes and when he returns he brings with him a flurry of action as doctors and nurses stream in to examine Sam and perform what seems to be every test under the sun. Dean just signs the necessary forms, letting Cas take charge of everything else.

As he watches his boyfriend order around all the nurses and doctors to ensure that Sam gets the best possible care, it hits Dean out of nowhere that he really, really loves this man.

* * *

Just as the medical staff are finishing up with Sam (who is dehydrated, but thankfully has nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises – John didn’t have time to do anything worse, and Castiel will forever be thankful for that), two of the officers from the cemetery enter the room.

“Hey, boys,” says the blonde. “My name’s Donna, and this is my partner Jody,” she gestures to the brunette at her side. “I know you’ve been through a heckuva lot today, but we’d like to fill you in on what’s been happening if that’s alright.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, “of course. You guys saved my little brother today, so whatever you need.”

“We honestly cannot thank you enough for what you did today,” Castiel adds from his chair next to Dean’s. And it’s true. There are no words for how grateful he is. “How did you even find us?”

“We got an anonymous tip we traced to a place called ‘The Roadhouse’ in Dallas, Texas,” Jody explains. “Apparently someone was tracking you and gave us a heads up you might be in some trouble. I’m not even going to ask how he did it, considering it’s pretty illegal,” she continues in unmistakable mom-voice, before her face softens into a gentle smile, “I’m just glad we were able to get to you boys on time.”

“Us too,” Castiel says, reaching out to squeeze Dean’s shoulder. He doesn’t know what would have happened had the police not showed up, and he’s actively trying not to think about it.

Jody and Donna inform them that John Winchester is expected to survive and will serve a lengthy prison sentence after he recovers.

“He’s not going to be able to get to you or your brother here ever again,” Donna says to Dean.

“We also noticed that there were some odd guardianship discrepancies,” Jody adds, “and I had a long conversation with a woman named Naomi – I’m assuming you know her?”

Castiel can see the way Dean swallows nervously, and feels his own anxiety start to rise. From what he’s gathered, Dean’s guardianship of Sam has never been one hundred percent legal.

However, he can feel the tension leak from Dean’s shoulders as Jody continues. “Well, once your father is conscious, he’ll be given the option to sign over his guardianship to you once and for all. Somehow I think he’s going to take that option,” she tells them, a somewhat wicked gleam in her eye. Castiel decides that he likes this woman.

“Thank you,” Dean says for both of them, voice rough.

The officers nod, moving to leave the room.

“Well let you two get some rest,” Donna tells them. “But don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. Anything at all.” She sets a business card down on the bedside table and gives the men a gentle smile before she and her partner leave the room.

Dean stares after them, but Castiel keeps his eyes on Dean. His boyfriend’s eyes are wide with shock.

Finally he blinks, running a hand down his face as he turns to face Castiel.

“Holy shit,” he whispers. “It’s really over, isn’t it?”

Castiel nods at him, glancing over at Sam before turning back to his boyfriend and letting the relief he feels flood in. “It is,” he confirms, unable to stop the smile that spreads across his face as he reaches out to cup Dean’s cheek. “Sam is safe. _You_ are safe. It’s over, Dean. It’s over.”

“Holy shit,” Dean says again. And the grin that breaks out on his own face is blinding in its euphoria. Castiel can’t believe he gets to have this man, gets to have this strange little makeshift family.

“Holy shit,” he repeats.

* * *

It doesn’t take long for Dean to end up sitting next to Sammy, careful not to disturb his sleep but not wanting to be far away from the kid for a second. Cas is right there next to them, his hand on Dean’s shoulder like it has been for most of the day, a grounding comfort.

It’s been quiet for a while when something crosses Dean’s mind. “You know my mom used to call him her little miracle baby?” He glances over at Cas before turning back to Sam, running a hand through his little brother’s hair. “He was so unexpected and so…so perfect, you know?”

“He’s a very special child,” Castiel says quietly, and there’s an honesty and care to his voice that Dean feels to his core. “I’m sure your mother would be proud of how well you raised him,” he continues. Suddenly there’s a hand on Dean’s cheek turning his head until he’s staring into bright blue eyes, full of sincerity. “You should be too.”

Dean smiles, tired but happy. “Thanks, Cas.”

“Of course.”

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, holding each other’s gaze, but eventually a nurse comes in and they break apart.

“Don’t mind me,” he tells them as he checks Sam over quickly. He spares a glace for the two worried men, offering a reassuring smile. “He’s doing very well, should be able to leave here tomorrow – you’re welcome to stay here with him tonight, of course. I’ll have someone bring in a cot.” He gestures to a door to their left. “The bathroom has a shower, too, if you’d like to clean up.” Dean and Castiel nod their thanks, and he leaves the room with one last smile.

“We probably should shower,” Cas says.

“Yeah,” Dean says, nodding in agreement. It’s been stressful day and Dean knows he looks like hell – probably doesn’t smell too great either. Luckily Cas brought in their duffel from the Impala.

“Come on,” Cas says gently, steering Dean towards the bathroom. “We won’t be long. He’ll be okay.”

Dean reluctantly follows Cas into the small bathroom, and once the door shuts and they’re alone for the first time since they got Sammy back, everything seems to hit him at once. He allows Cas undress him and guide him under the shower’s welcoming warmth before he finally lets himself break down, glad for the privacy as the sound of falling water covers his sobs.

Cas holds him through it, but Dean can feel that he’s shaking too and wraps his arms around the other man just as tight.

Once they’ve cleaned up and dried off, they change in silence. Well, silent until Dean looks up at his boyfriend and can’t hold back his burst of laughter. Cas startles, eyes wide as he stares back at Dean.

“What?” he asks.

“Dude, what the hell are you wearing?”

Cas looks down at himself and takes in what has to be one of his work undershirts – a honeybee-patterned long sleeve thermal.

“I wasn’t exactly paying attention to what I packed, Dean,” he says, clearly trying to glare. It doesn’t work, the laughter too contagious. Soon they’re both hunched over in the small bathroom, trying to regain their breath enough to speak.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean finally gets out, “I needed that.” He straightens up and pulls Cas into a tight embrace, trying to convey just how much he cares for the man in his arms. “Don’t ever change, babe. Okay?”

Cas nods, burying his face in Dean’s neck. “Never.”

* * *

Two grown men crammed together on a hospital cot doesn’t make for the best night’s sleep, but they’re both so exhausted that they manage anyways. Sam’s still asleep when they wake up, so Dean volunteers to go get them coffee. Castiel stays with the boy, perched cautiously on the edge of the hospital bed as he tries to wake up fully.

He’s just starting to feel awake when the nurse comes in for Sam’s morning check-up.

“He’s looking really good,” he informs Castiel, running through Sam’s vitals and test results. There’s enough improvement that he should be able to be discharged by the end of the day

“That’s wonderful,” Castiel tells him. “Thank you.”

Dean comes back in just as the nurse is on his way out, pressing a cup of mercifully hot coffee into his hand as Castiel fills him in on how Sam’s doing.

He’s just finished speaking when there’s a whine from the bed.

Dean and Castiel are at Sam’s side in a heartbeat, coffee all but forgotten.

“Dean?” Sam mumbles, eyes blinking open slowly and then all at once, wide and frightened. “Dean!” The fear in his voice breaks Castiel’s heart.

“Shh, buddy,” Dean tells him, running a gentle hand through his hair. “It’s okay, Sammy, I’m right here.”

“Where are we?” Sam asks, voice shrill, on the edge of panic.

“We’re in the hospital,” Castiel answers, stepping closer to the bed to lay a hand on Sam’s arm. “It’s okay, though, Sam. You’re okay, you’re safe here.”

“Castiel?” Sam seems like he’s starting to calm at least a little bit, taking in his surroundings and realizing there’s no threat. “Did you make me better?”

“He sure did,” Dean says before Castiel can explain. “How’re you feeling Sammy? You hungry or anything?”

Sam shakes his head no. “Are you gonna leave?”

“Of course not, buddy,” he says, settling down onto the bed and pulling his brother into his arms. “I’m gonna stay right here, okay. I promise. Cas too.” Dean reaches up and pulls him down onto the bed as well, and it’s instinct for Castiel to wrap his arms around Dean and Sam.

“Hey, Sam?” Castiel ventures softly after a moment. “I have one of your _Star Wars_ books here with me. Would you like us to read to you?”

Sam nods, so he gets the book from their duffel, bringing it over and settling in again

They take turns reading, and eventually Sam’s expression loses the wide-eyed fearful thing. Soon enough, he’s blinking sleepily.

“M’tired,” he mumbles, leaning heavily into Dean.

“Okay, kiddo,” Dean says. Castiel stands up so that they can lay Sam down gently, tucking him in tight, as always. “How about you get some sleep. We’ll be right here when you wake up, okay?”

“Promise?” Sam asks, voice small as his eyes flick between the two of them.

“Promise,” both Castiel and Dean tell him at once.

“’Kay,” he says, letting his eyes fall shut.

Dean smoothes his hair away from his face. “Love you, Sammy.”

“Love you too, Dean,” Sam says. “Love you, Castiel.”

The words shock Castiel, both in the ease with which Sam says them and in they way they seem to flood him head to toe with warmth. “I love you too, Sam,” he says. And he does. He doesn’t know what he would do without these two in his life.

Figuring there’s no going back now, he turns to look at his boyfriend. “I love you too, Dean,” he says. The words are shy, cautious, but he doesn’t mean them any less. “I just – I thought you should know.”

Dean doesn’t say anything, doesn’t seem like he _can_ , but he reaches over the bed and takes Castiel’s hand, holding on tight, and that’s enough to leave Castiel feeling warmer and happier than he can ever remember.

Theirs may not be a conventional little family, but Castiel wouldn’t trade Sam or Dean for the world.

* * *

Sammy’s been asleep for about a half an hour when a thought crosses Dean’s mind.

“Hey, Cas?” he asks, turning to where the other man’s settled into the chair besides Sam’s bed.

“Yes, Dean?”

“Do you think – um – would you mind doing something with me real quick, before Sammy wakes up?”

“Anything,” Cas tells him. And even though Dean knows now how much this man loves him, the sincerity of the words still makes him go all warm inside. “What do you need?”

Dean runs a hand through his hair. “Well, I never actually got the chance to get any of me an’ Sam’s stuff from the house when I left the first time. It’d be nice to get some of it now. I just, I don’t want to take Sam back there, not after everything. So I thought maybe we could go really quickly, while he’s still sleeping?”

“Of course,” Cas says, getting up out of his chair, just like that. “Let’s go.”

Dean can’t help but stare up at his boyfriend for a second, wondering for the hundredth time how he got so lucky as to have someone who would stick by his side through everything they’ve seen. Suddenly the words that have been stuck in his throat are right there on the tip of his tongue as he stands up and wraps an arm around Cas’s shoulders.

“I love you, too,” he says, planting a kiss on the other man’s cheek. “You know that, right?”

Cas’s wide grin is the only answer he gets, but it’s really all he needs.

* * *

 There isn’t much that Dean needs from John Winchester’s house, so they manage to get in and out fairly quickly. Castiel is surprised to find that what they do take is enough to fill the back of the Impala.

Dean shuts the trunk and take’s a second to look up at his old house, and Castiel can see the conflicting emotions warring across his expression.

Evidently, nostalgia wins out.

“You know,” Dean says, glancing over at Castiel, “my mom always talked about taking a road trip when Sammy got old enough. Told me we’d all pack up into the car and drive all the way to Disneyland.” He lets out a sad chuckle at that, but smiles over when Castiel reaches out to take his hand. “Even at nineteen I was so freakin’ excited…about _Disneyland_. It’s just such a typical family thing, you know?”

Castiel nods. He hasn’t had many typical family things in his life, and he has to admit it sounds amazing.

Dean looks up at him as he continues. “I wanna make sure he has that, at least. Typical family things.”

“You will, Dean,” Castiel tells him, holding his hand just a little bit tighter. “ _We_ will.”

A warm smile spreads across Dean’s face at that, and he turns his back to the house to face Castiel and join their free hands. “You wanna join our fucked up little family, Cas? ‘Cause I gotta say, being a Winchester doesn’t really come with too many perks.”

Castiel wants to argue with that – from what he’s seen being a Winchester comes with the willingness to go to the ends of the earth for one’s family, with unending love – but instead he just smiles. “Well maybe we’ll have to start our own family then,” he says.

Dean blinks at him in surprise for a moment, jaw falling slack for just a moment before he breaks out into a wide, toothy grin.

“I – I like the sound of that,” he answers, pulling Castiel in for a kiss and a tight embrace.

Castiel likes the sound of that too.


End file.
